I am always educated by what Bethie remembers and does not remember, when she blogs about one of her spankings. I suppose it’s not so much a variance of memory as it is of perspective — what seems worth recounting, and what does not.

The other afternoon we were just hanging out, discussing our weekend plans when I suddenly blurted, “So, when am I going to get some of this bondage we’ve been talking about?”

Let’s just say, subtlety is not my best trait. But at least Dan doesn’t always have to guess what I want.

She’s being nice, there. What she’s really trying to say is, there are clues and cues I can miss. But I’m not a complete brick.

What happened was, she’d been busy at her computer, and I’d been in my room playing an online computer game. The way I remember it, we’d already planned the weekend up pretty thoroughly, there weren’t any big blocks of playtime in the cards, and I’d just come out to get a beverage and say hello. But of course when she said that, my mental picture of the afternoon, shall we say, shifted.

I suppose considering the fact that I was lounging around in his chair and so close to the delrin cane I mentioned in the previous post, I should have known better. But no. Dan pushed me over the arm of the chair, pulled down my shorts and panties, and spanked my bare bottom with the cane.

I can’t remember how many strokes he gave me, but I do remember it seemed like a lot and he didn’t seem to be holding back. I even looked back over my shoulder and gave him the pouty look, but he didn’t ease up at all.

My “chair” is sort of like a small loveseat, actually, and she was indeed “lounging” in it — if by lounging, you mean “slumped down on her back with her legs flung wide and her toes hooked over the top of the back of the chair.” It’s a dramatic effect even when she’s wearing fuzzy pajamas, which she was — and it invariably makes me want to pick up whatever flexible toy is handy and apply it to various tender areas between one inside knee and the other that are not usually seen in such an accessible posture.

Since I did not have a whip or a riding crop or anything else handy, what I did was I picked up the small flexible Delrin cane, held it in a choked grip with about four inches of the tip extended, and used my other hand to bend those four inches back and let them snap down on a very tender area we might delicately call “the extreme upper inside thigh.”

Fuzzy pajamas or no fuzzy pajamas, that got me a squawk, a pout, and a rude remonstrance. The accompanying burst of “attitude”, in turn, is what caused Bethie to earn the “pushed me over the arm of the chair, pulled down my shorts and panties, and spanked my bare bottom with the cane” experience. She got ten quick ones, which left a very pretty lattice of welts, and earned me a very hurt look.

After that we moved to the bedroom, and as Bethie writes, “I’m not sure why, but Dan wanted me in the diaper position on the edge of the bed.” What she’s calling the diaper position is the “legs flung high and wide” position I just described out in the living room with her pajamas on — and all I did was invite her to resume the position she’d used to get my attention in the first place. Only, this time, without any protecting flannel. She may not be sure why, but it seemed pretty obvious to me.

The rest of the story she tells pretty much the way I remember it. But I did want to expand on her mention of the butt hook, because that’s an evil device we’ve had in our toybox for some months now and it’s every bit as cool in reality as I’d thought it might be.

The butt hook is a device that I first saw popping up in bondage porn a couple of years ago. One end goes you-know-where and the other end gets tied to something — one dramatic picture I saw improvised a hogtie by attaching it to the end of a long-haired model’s braid. The Stockroom, which is the toy store I usually recommend, sells one, but theirs looks to be just a plain utilitarian curve of steel. But The Twisted Monk sells one that’s an absolute beauty — a gleaming chrome piece of industrial art, with a rounded ball on the business end (in your choice of small, medium, or “do not want!” large) and with an attention to detail that’s amazing, complete with careful and artistic hand-welding to make a perfectly smooth interface where the ball as affixed to the end of the shaft:

We got the small ball — and it’s amazing — the sort of thing you want to hold in your hands and fiddle with, just because it’s an attractive artifact. We’ve had it for some months, but only recently started playing with it. Now here’s Bethie again:

Yup, it was time for the butt hook. Dan lubed up the ball end while I did my best to relax while I waited. I was still busy relaxing when I felt his fingers lubing up my bottom hole. I was all set to do my part and help him get that hook in, but it turned out he didn’t need my help. The ball just slipped right in. No problem. Huh? I couldn’t believe it.

Dan tied the end of the hook to the harness and then tested the whole thing out by pulling up on the rope to see if it could be used to “encourage” me to keep my bottom up in the air. It did. Grrrr.

Heh, that was actually pretty funny. The first time we played with the hook, Bethie was (understandably) pretty tense, and it took quite a bit of lube and gentle pressure to get it eased in. That time I didn’t attach it to anything, I just moved it around a bit and took it back out. But this time, as she says, it popped right it. She was already wearing a rope harness in pink (Monk rope, oh how I spoil her!) that had rope ends dangling at the small of her back, so it was a no-brainer to tie them to the loop at the end of the hook. Viola! Now it’s a butt you can lead where you want it, by exerting gentle pressure! It’s like a nose ring, only for her butt! (I’ll bet when she reads this, I’m in trouble by this point in the paragraph.)

In all seriousness, though, when Bethie gets to enjoying her spankings, she gets relaxed, and any “butt in the air” posture she’s in tends to slump down to “flat on the bed”. Verbal commands don’t have a lot of effect — she complies readily enough, but when she’s off in endorphin la-la land, her memory of commands seems to last about eight seconds. Sometimes I switch to a more noticeable implement (the big canes are good for this) to improve her memory, but really I found the butt hook to be a superior solution. Just a gentle pressure on the rope between the hook and the back of her breast harness is all it took, she’d immediately stick her butt back up in the air.

I’ll leave you with a couple of bonus butt hook links from Bondage Blog, probably the ones that inspired me to want one in the first place:

I am amused to note from that middle link that in 2005, the butt hook in Monk’s toybag was “the unused toy” nobody wanted to play with — and now, he sells the best one available on the internets. How’s that for progress?